


fictober 2018

by chwepen



Category: BLACKPINK (Band), NCT (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Halloween, Multi, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, and more!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-08-28 02:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16714456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chwepen/pseuds/chwepen
Summary: A compilation of drabbles for fictober 2018 for Blackpink, Seventeen, and NCT respectively! I hope you enjoy them! (I know I didn't complete all thirty-one days I'm horrible)





	1. autumn colors (chwe hansol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You love autumn, and he loves you dearly.

**Prompt One: Autumn**

* * *

For you, it was easy to understand a person by knowing which season they liked the most. Most of your friends picked spring or summer as their favorites, either loving the sun and the beach days that seemed to go on endlessly or the spring showers and luscious, pastel colors that painted each flower. You, however, loved autumn the most. Of course, Halloween was one of the season’s highlights, the most eccentric of the celebrated holidays, but it was more than that; the season represented a state of change. The colors were turning, the greens changing to oranges and browns. You no longer had to worry about the heat when you grabbed your peacoat, enjoying the feel of the weather when you were wrapped up in comfortable sweaters and striped, orange socks.

You loved everything about fall, and Hansol’s hand in yours as you walk together on a Sunday morning makes it even better.

You two met in the spring, the season a rebirth of sorts for the two of you. That winter had been difficult, no matter how many presents you received or resolutions you made. And when you got closer, you didn’t know much you would admire his patience for you that spring, his affection in the summertime, and eventually, his love that persisted on into autumn. At the beginning of October, having him next to you at your personal peak of the year made the one before feel like a comfortable blur.

“Halloween’s coming soon. Think about our couples costume yet?”

“How are you so sure we’re wearing a couples costume,” he asks with a teasing smirk.

“Because it would be funny. And I promise I wouldn’t make it cheesy, like a bottle of ketchup and mustard. I promise, I have taste.”

“Fine, but no salt or pepper, either!”

You laugh at his response. Your coat flaps in the air, your beanie almost falling off your head as it combats the subtle fall winds.

“You know, just because you can get bundled up now doesn’t mean you need to always wear that hat.” He flicks it with his hand then grabs your own, fingers intertwining.

“Shush, I love this hat. And besides, that’s the fun of fall, long sleeves included.” You re-adjust your beanie with your free hand. hoping it sits firm. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked what your favorite season is!”

He grins, his smile wide and electric. “I like fall the most.”

You nudge his hip with your own. “Are you saying it cause it’s actually your favorite season, or just the easiest one to pick because it’s the current one,” you tease.

Hansol strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, a warm and loving touch. “I like the season because you get so excited about it. The colors, the pumpkin spice lattes, Halloween, the colors.” He grins.

“Hey! Orange is so under-appreciated and it deserves–”

He presses a kiss to your lips, effectively making you blush and stop in your tracks. When you separate, he says, “I know. And I love you for being so…festive.” The boy may have been passive often, but there were times his gestures continued to move you to the point of breathlessness. He might not have called himself a romantic, but he was undoubtedly a sweetheart in disguise.

“Among other things, I hope.” You grin, setting your head on his shoulder and continuing to walk, enjoying the fall weather with the guy of your dreams.

“Many things.”

 


	2. sunset slips (lee taeyong)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hayride in the country isn’t without its fumbles.

**Prompt Two: “Look out, you idiot!”**

* * *

 

A sunset hayride with Taeyong is perfect on paper. With the end of the year around the corner, there were fewer opportunities to enjoy the quiet and simple moments, and a weekend to spend away from the craze of city life would mean the world to you. What sounds better than driving past pumpkin patches, enjoying apple ciders, telling stories as you watch the countryside welcome the setting sun to make up for your hectic schedules?  
  
However, you forget to factor in that your boyfriend is prone to accidents if he isn’t paying attention, no matter how talented he is at dancing and other creative pursuits.  
  
You step onto the cart with your hand in Taeyong’s, the space empty for the two of you to spread out or stay close together if you chose to; of course, you picked the latter. Sitting side by side, you hear the motor of the tractor hum and the wheels starting to turn, beginning the ride. You feel a bit colder with the wind whipping against your sweater as Taeyong wraps his jacket a bit tighter around himself.  
  
You nestle deeper into his side, looking around and pointing at the many kids sitting atop their parent’s shoulders, picking out the largest pumpkins to take home. Couples also walk the pathways of the patches, stopping to kiss or drink their free mugs of apple cider. You smile to yourself, knowing only an hour ago you were doing just that with Taeyong before you decided to go on a hayride.  
  
“It’s the perfect sunset. I gotta get a picture,” Taeyong says, crawling over to the edge of the moving cart and pulling his phone out of his back pocket. As you watch him move his phone around with attention to the scenery in front of you, you’re reminded how ridiculously meticulous and adorable he could be during the mundanest of occasions.  
  
“Look out, you idiot!” A passerby yells, stopping to point at Taeyong and then to the bump in the trail you haven’t driven over. Only then does it click that Taeyong, leaning over the side to take pictures, could fall off if he’s not careful.   
  
You pull him back by the hem of his jacket, his arms flailing as he sits down next to you once again. “What the hell? I almost dropped my phone!”  
  
“Did you not think ‘Maybe I shouldn’t bend so far off the cart’? You almost toppled off of it because you weren’t paying attention!” You scowl at him.   
  
Immediately, your boyfriend retracts like a scolded puppy. “I just wanted a good picture.” Taeyong pouts.  
  
Although you reacted in instant fear for his safety, your scowl turns into a frown at his reaction. You know today must be as precious to him as it is to you, if not more. He rarely finds time to enjoy occasions like this nowadays, especially with you. Wanting to capture and remember these moments wasn’t harmless, but him acting recklessly was.  
  
“I know, I’m sorry. Just promise to look first okay?” You ask, smiling apologetically.   
  
He locks his arm with yours, his grin just as bright, looking out onto the fields and the people picking out their favorite pumpkins across the array of grassland. “It is a great view.”  
  
“It is,” you agree. Breathing in a content sigh, you close your eyes. Listening to the wagon’s creaks, the murmurs of faraway conversations, you barely hear the sound of the shutter on Taeyong’s phone.  
  
“Hey,” you shout, swatting the phone away with a smirk.  
  
“I said I wanted to get a good picture. Now, I have a better one.”  
  
You blush and lean into his shoulder. “You’ll have the best one if you take one of us.”  
  
At the end of the day, you take more than one. His camera roll, as well as yours, fills up with silly and loving pictures of the two of you together. And when you drive home, back to the hectic life you share with your boyfriend, you know these moments will stay embedded in your memory and keep you at peace.


	3. embers (jung jaehyun)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sitting by the fireplace, you listen to a story and fall in love a bit more.

**Prompt Three: Fire**

* * *

Resting by the fireside in the bedroom of the cabin you and Jaehyun rented with all of your friends, you enjoy the quiet after a long day of outside activities. You loved their company and the hot chocolates you all drank together in the fall weather, but Jaehyun’s naked body molded to yours, as well as the many blankets covering the both of you, reminds you there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.  
  
You run your hands across Jaehyun as his eyes stay closed. You know he’s still awake, but by a bare margin. Your fingers dance across his arms, collarbones, and hands. The love of every ripple and curve of his skin swells in you every time you touch him. Each day is new, the expanse of him a map you want to discover and treasure as long as you’re by his side.  
  
“Where’s this scar from,” you ask, eyes dragging across the faint, thin line that runs diagonally across his right thumb.  
  
“It’s a really ridiculous story.” Jaehyun opens his eyes, his eyelids drooping and a childlike smile spreading across his face. He runs his fingers through your hair, brushing some strands away from your shoulder and kissing the hollow of your throat.  
  
“Try me. I love your stories.“ You grin, propping yourself up with one elbow. No matter the story, you thoroughly enjoyed listening to Jaehyun speak, probably more than you should have. He was always animated, lively, tender-hearted. Ready to present another piece of his life to you with his words and the expressions he made. And you pitied anyone who wasn’t smitten with his tales and the vibrant way he told them.  
  
“Okay. Well, Mark and I went camping once when we were teenagers, and he was using a pocket knife for something, I can’t remember what. But Mark sliced his thumb pretty deep.” Jaehyun re-enacts the act with his hands, making you giggle. “And he started bawling as soon as he saw the blood. It must’ve hurt like hell.”  
  
He laughs in earnest. Turning his head away to gaze into the fire, you think the memory is coming back to him in full clarity. “To make him feel better, I took the knife and cut my thumb too. It hurt, but not as much as seeing him so upset. And I said if we rubbed our thumbs together, we’d be blood brothers. So, we did, and he stopped crying.” He focuses on you again, eyes staring deep into yours with tenderness. “Like I said, it’s ridiculous.”  
  
“Not at all. It’s very sweet.” You kiss him, his lips pillowy and soft pressed to your own. You pull away with a smile. “Just like everything else about you.”  
  
He shrugs, grinning sheepishly as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. The contact soothes you to the bone, loving the feel of him against you. “Sometimes I wonder why you never get sick of me talking so much.”  
  
You rest your hands on his cheeks, rubbing the apples of them in slow, tender circles. “Because I could never get bored of you.”  
  
Something passes over his eyes, a look you know he only saves for his most vulnerable moments. One that says he loves you deeply without requiring words to express that. “Even my dad jokes?”  
  
You burst out laughing, your head knocking into his bare chest as it rumbles with laughter too. “Especially your dad jokes, baby.”  
  
You know one thing to be true as you fall asleep in his arms that night in the glow of the firelight: you would never get tired of him or what he has to say. With every day spent with Jaehyun, you find a new reason to love him.


	4. fall of dusk (nakamoto yuta)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following him to the forest at the brink of sunset, the full moon rising in the sky, you understand why he tries his hardest to keep you safe. Even from himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> werewolf!au

**Prompt Four: Sunset**

* * *

 

Yuta cherishes your safety above all else. Whether it’s a puddle on the sidewalk or a handsy drunk at a nightclub, he gladly and wholeheartedly makes sure you’re protected from any threats, big or small, that come your way. Dating him for four months, you know how much it matters to him that you aren’t in any sense of danger. You brush it off most of the time, knowing the boy is protective with everyone, and nothing can deter him from ensuring he can be as strong and brave as he can for those he loves. It’s what you love about him, the doting, funny, and supportive sides that make him who he is. 

But there are two peculiarities about him and your relationship that are harder to disregard.

You both are pretty affectionate with each other, never wasting a second to kiss his cheek or embark on an hour long session of cuddling or making out on your couch. Like lovestruck teenagers, you can’t get enough. However, when the two you got closer intimately, once and only once, Yuta withdrew from you. He assured you it was nothing you did, his eyes blown with lust and hands shaking.

“You know I love you. I do. I just don’t–” He could barely finish the end of his thought, an emotion passing over his eyes you couldn’t make out.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain it.“ You kissed his cheek with the same passion you offered to him moments before. He sagged in relief, wrapped his arms around you to fall asleep together and ended the night on a good note.

You’ve never pressured him since then, knowing when he’s ready the moment will be perfect. Still, you couldn’t help if deep down you felt a bit confused.

The other detail is unusual in its own right; Yuta always stays away on days when the full moon occurs. He would either send you a text saying he was sick or had made plans with friends he couldn’t cancel. You left it at that, hoping he’d feel better or have fun, knowing you would see him sooner rather than later. And you did, usually waking up the next day to him knocking on your door with an apology coffee and the smile you loved so much. You’d let him in, forgetting about what happened the previous day.

Of course, there were only so many times you could justify it or pretend it wasn’t odd. He couldn’t catch a cold or always be with the same friends every month, could he? Soon, the excuses felt like lies, their weight too heavy to truly dismiss. The last time he said the words to your face justified that feeling, his expression pained as he kissed you goodbye.

You tell yourself it isn’t crazy to want answers as you wake up in the early hours of the afternoon, realizing you overslept, and a text from Yuta pushes that want to the breaking point.

_[Received at 1:06 P.M.] I’m staying late at the vet’s office tonight. Thinking of you though :’(_

With a heavy heart, you eat lunch and get dressed for the day knowing you need to confront him. If the situation has to do with someone else, or something that he knows you won’t be proud of, you’ll take it; all you want is to understand what’s going on. To know if Yuta can finally confess what must be just as hard for him to keep inside as it is for you to ignore. Nevertheless, you send him a reassuring, albeit late, text back:

_[Sent at 4:00 P.M.] Don’t work too hard. Love you! :*_

At a quarter to five, on your drive to the veterinarian’s office, you prepare yourself for the worst, expecting to not find his car or him there and proving your judgement was right all along. Maybe you’re overreacting a bit; a deep part of you knows he doesn’t need to explain every detail of his life to you, but the fact he lies so frequently in these instances wouldn’t go unnoticed with a regular person. Why did it have to be different for you?

When you arrive in the parking lot, you find Yuta exactly where he said he’d be, smiling with a customer as he pets the person’s puppy. Guilt spreads through you as the dog licks Yuta’s cheek with fervor. Yuta usually works as a volunteer some days during the week, having a keen attachment to most animals. Knowing he wasn’t lying, you feel a bit comforted, a part of you chastising yourself for doubting him in the first place. 

You sit for another hour, hoping to catch him and see if it’s possible for him to see you later. By the time he exits the office, the sun slowly setting in the sky at six, he’s leaving in a rush. The keys rattle around in his hand, and you can see his face is visibly uneasy, eyebrows furrowed and a frown etched across his mouth. You wonder what could have him so on edge, deciding to tail him discreetly as he starts his car and drives out of the lot.

You follow him until he stops his car on a road surrounded by trees, a sign reading “Dead End” up ahead. He parks his car, and you do the same with a few yards separating you to not give yourself away. You lock your doors and follow him into the thicket of the forest, half curious and half terrified what you’ll find in your search.

You find it hard to catch up to Yuta as the darkness pervades the forest. He makes it to the edge of the lake, the moonlight highlighting its ripples. You hide behind a few trees to witness what is about to happen, a tight ball caught in your throat. The moon rises until it reaches its highest point and Yuta’s face suddenly contorts with anguish. His hands clutch his chest, his ragged breaths coming in and going out at a rapid pace. He’s trying his best to stomach whatever’s hurting him, but he can’t stop the whimpers leaving his mouth as his legs buckle. Starkly resembling a crumbling piece of paper, he collapses into himself. You almost run to his aid to comfort him or to help make him feel better in some way, but then, you hear the seams of his shirt ripping and his groans turning bestial.

He begins to transform, slowly and painfully. Yuta screams with such agony its echoes across the forest rip through you too.

The change starts in his fingers. Yuta’s nails, normally short and clean cut, mutate into ragged claws. You watch them grow at an unreasonable rate, stopping once they’ve created a sharp point. Next comes the hair, patches of it growing on the side of Yuta’s face and neck. His ears and teeth also grow into points at their tips, reshaping him into more of what you barely recognize or could possibly comprehend. The sharpest distinction from the boy you know and love and the thing in front of you is his eyes; the once brown irises are now a bright and wild, and almost savage, shade of scarlet.

The moon highlights the being created underneath its light in all its savagery and wonder, and you finally understand Yuta’s secret: he’s a werewolf. A creature you never believed in, no matter how many films you watched or urban legends you read about. It seems to be beyond belief, the truth of it almost too far-fetched if the proof wasn’t heaving and shaking in front of you. You wonder if the commonplace hysteria of the full moon is finally getting to you as you try to walk away slowly, Yuta breathing in slow intervals now that the worst seems to be over.

Until a branch snaps underneath your sneaker, the newfound silence in the forest broken.

Yuta’s head snaps upwards, his eyes burning and searching out the creator of the sound, the one who invaded on his territory. In that moment, you run.

You barely have a second’s head start before you hear Yuta chasing after you, his abilities heightening his senses including his speed. He probably can’t tell who you are in the darkness of the woods, and you won’t make it far. But you can’t help but try. His growls follow you the longer you sprint as you attempt to outrun him to no avail.

The ground gives out underneath you, and you shriek and fall into the free air. Grass, twigs, and leaves crunch underneath your body as you roll numerous times. You hear your own painful yelp pierce the air, and the new scrapes on your arms and head sting instantly. When you open your eyes, Yuta’s bared fangs are almost scraping the side of your cheek.

He growls loudly, and any and all sounds die in your throat. A few tears escape and fall down your cheeks, fear pervading every one of your senses. The man I love is not a monster, you tell yourself, but the way he looks so devoid of thought and caged in by depravity, you think he could do monstrous things if he has no self-restraint.

Before he can do anything worse by mistake, you find your voice. “Yuta, it’s me. It’s me. Please, I love you.” You sob, hoping your words will bring him back to reality. If anything can save him from himself, you hope it’s how deep his love goes for you.

The warped look in his red eyes is gone, replaced with a sudden state of shock. Even his eyes change color, gold irises staring into yours. He says your name in a broken whisper, immediately crawling off of you. His back hits the trunk of a nearby tree, his shirt ripped in several places and his chest practically leaping out of it. You sit up, moving a bit farther from him to gather your bearings. He looks down at his sharpened claws in horror, then back at you. “What did I do?”

* * *

The two of you sit criss-crossed on your bed, a bandaid stuck to your head and sections of your arms wrapped in gauze. He’s in human form again, telling you the second you both could react halfway rational again that his werewolf form usually didn’t last for more than two hours when the full moon was out. You know you might need to clean your wounds and change the bandages tomorrow, but that can wait. 

Yuta’s face says more than he needs it to, torment etching every crease of his mouth and blink of his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry,” he says. He wants to touch you, mend every cut on your skin and express more than his words can say how horrible he feels, but he’s certain he can’t be close to you now. He’s too much of a monster to do the things he’s always wanted to: take care of you, keep you safe, love you.

“Yuta, nothing’s broken. It’s just some cuts and bruises.“ You sigh. “I’m more shocked about the werewolf part than anything else.”

Yuta lets out a broken laugh. A tear falls from his eye. You reach out a hand to wipe it away, but he instantly flinches from your touch.

“How do you not hate me,” he rasps, his voice throaty and hoarse with shame. Another tear slides down his cheek, the image cracking something deep within you.

With a faint voice and wet cheeks, you reply. “I could never hate you, and you know it. I only got upset because you kept lying to me, and it was obvious you didn’t want to keep doing it. And I was thinking all these stupid things, like maybe you were with someone else.”

“I’d never cheat on you!”

“I know. And I never should’ve thought that way.” You wipe the tears from your eyes. “So, I went to the vet’s office to see if you were there, and you were, but then you were running off and I needed to know what was wrong.” You knot your fingers together, your own private shame of spying on him sneaking up on you. “You know the rest.”

Yuta breathes out a deep sigh, looking for the right words. “Lying to you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I just knew it would sound ridiculous. I’m still figuring out how to shift and how to stop it if I feel myself losing control. I was a new wolf when we met, but I’ve learned and met others like me. It’s getting easier, but I didn’t want to worry you either.

“Whatever you decide, I just want you to know I’m sorry I let you think the worst instead of just trying to explain it as best I could at the time.”

“What do you mean ‘decide’?”

He chokes up. “I mean, if you don’t want to be with me now that you know, I’d understand.”

You process the senselessness of his words, mystified at his insane reasoning for you possibly wanting to break up. “You really think I’d leave you because of something that’s a part of you like anything else? Do you think that little of me,” you croak.

“No! I just mean…how am I supposed to be the one who protects you if I can’t even protect you from myself?” He tries to strengthen his voice, but it only comes out weaker than before. "What if I lash out one day and just ruin your entire apartment, or hurt someone? God forbid, what if I hurt you? How is that normal? How could I be normal for you?”

This is what it comes down to. It wasn’t the unknown that kept him from telling you the truth, although it would’ve shocked you all the same; he couldn’t imagine you thinking he was different than he was as a human, some untameable thing that could never be enough to provide what you deserved.

You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes again. “You are normal, Yuta. This is not something to be ashamed of. Yes, you might be a werewolf, which is different from anything I’ve ever seen, but you’re still the same guy that I love and that loves me back. You could never hurt me or anyone else intentionally or otherwise, because that’s not who you are.

“And you don’t always have to be the one protecting me, or others, from everything. Sometimes, it has to be you that needs someone, and I might not be a werewolf”—your voice turns soft—“but I’m more than willing and capable to handle that job. You just have to let me.”

His restraint from touching you breaks, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. There are the distinct sounds of your gauze scraping against his hoodie and the feel of him trying to not hurt you while squeezing you at the same time, but you don’t care. Yuta’s your safe place. Even as a supernatural being, he’s still the one you want and you know will always try his hardest to make you happy.

“So, from now on, let’s be honest and rely on each other when we need it, no matter what. Promise?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your hands brush the ends of his hair and your lips ghost across his own. You haven’t kissed him once all day, the temptation there to end all words with his mouth on yours. But you know you need to hear his agreement before you give in.

“Of course, cross my heart,” Yuta mumbles, finally closing the space between you with a fierce kiss. It’s a heated mix of tongue and lips, like you both went without for enough time that any amount of proximity couldn’t be enough.

When Yuta bites your bottom lip with a strong tug, you laugh. “Sorry. It must be a wolf thing.“ He smirks.

“Oh really? Well, tell me all about this wolf thing.”

Yuta laughs too, the hearty sound easing every worry on your mind. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we have all night.”


	5. fables by fire (choi seungcheol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You tell stories of your people by the fire, and with the one you love by your side, you see a few similarities in your present and the fables of the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> firebender!au

**Prompt Five: Camping**

* * *

 

Coming from a group of family and friends who were natural fire benders, camping and telling stories by the bonfire always excites you. Igniting flames is as simple as one flick of your hand, and if you wanted, the entire forest could burn with enough focus. But tonight is about fun rather than using your powers.

Now, you enjoy sitting beside Seungcheol, a fellow fire bender and your longtime boyfriend. You watch him throw a fireball into the logs between your camping chairs to create an intense and sizable blaze. Hansol and Seungkwan clash flints together to see natural sparks flicker off the stone, the two boys snickering like they’ve never seen flames before, and you roll your eyes. Minghao sits by contently, repeatedly lighting a single finger and putting it out with his whole hand.

“Story time, kiddos!” Seungcheol smirks, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your temple.

The rest of the boys bring their bags of marshmallows and graham crackers to the ring and sit down, Joshua having an abnormal amount already in his mouth.

“First, does anyone remember what they called the first fire bender?”

“The Favored Child!” Jun yells, glad he spoke the answer before anyone else could.

“Exactly, J. The Favored Child. Last time, we finished their story with their journey after creating and practicing the Fire Trials. Does anyone remember their companion’s name?” The gender of the Favored Child was lost to your history, most of the oral storytellers losing certain details over time. As your group dwindled, there were only so many records of the past and not enough people to remember them.

Jun looks stumped, eyes almost searching the bonfire for the answer. Unfortunately, Seokmin beats him to it. “The Red Flame!”

“You got it, Seok,” Hansol encourages your mutual friend, and you love seeing his smile gleam in the firelight.

“Now, tonight we’re gonna tell you the story of how the Favored Child and the Red Flame came to meet, and how they fell in love.” Seungcheol turns to you with a wink, and the group oohs and aahs as you blush.

“The Favored Child had mastered many of the facets of fire bending, the most notable being pyromancy, a rarity for most of us now. They could see many of their loved ones’ futures in the fire, and while many roads led here or there, there was always an absolute path to be foretold. Funny enough, the Favored Child didn’t think to divine their own future. They were probably too certain of their single success to try, or else they would’ve already seen the Red Flame coming.

“Babe, wanna take it away?” Seungcheol asks, smiling.

You nod and grin. “So, the Red Flame was not enamored by the Favored Child at first, and neither was the Favored Child. In fact, they challenged each other to a duel to make sure only one of them stood to rule their two kingdoms. As you know, the earliest records of the duels meant they either ended in victory or death. For the Favored Child, most of their opponents met the latter. However, on the verge of success, the Favored Child was bested by the Red Flame. And the Red Flame did it with a ball of blue fire, another rarity nowadays.

“Now, I know you must be confused as to why we call them the Red Flame,”—you raise your hands—“but some say they had red hair as wild as the center of fire itself. Personally, I like the Blue Flame better but—“

“C’mon, more of the story!” Soonyoung whines, shaking his bag of marshmallows.

“Okay fine!” You laugh, nudging Seungcheol to continue the story. 

“The Red Flame did defeat the first fire bender, but decided not to kill the Favored Child. Instead, they agreed they shouldn’t begin their empires in petty bloodshed. You would say after that initial conflict, they both found a certain companionship in what would become their rarities. And together, they became invincible throughout the territories. With the Favored Child’s divination and battle strategy and the Red Flame’s blue blazes and physical abilities, and what would eventually be their deep respect for each other, they were unbeatable.”

“So, they were together just because they had something the other wanted?” Mingyu pouts, stuffing another graham cracker in his mouth.

“Not exactly,” you reply. “The two of them saw intense strength in each other, even after they dueled. While it didn’t start from a place of love, they would learn to love. And now, they are our ancestors and the creators of our powers today.” 

Your boyfriend smiles wide, impressed by your storytelling as well as his. “Pretty cool, huh?”

The boys clap, happy with tonight’s tale. You and Seungcheol grin at each other, happy they are all as delighted by the old tales as you both are.

* * *

When you crawl into your tent together, instinctively holding each other close once you lie down to sleep, you tell Seungcheol, “The story is sort of like ours in a way.”

Seungcheol frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, when we were younger, we both could never get along. Then, we learned and grew up. I guess that made us understand how to respect each other, and eventually fall in love.” You stare into his eyes, the brown of them warming you to the bone.

He kisses you on the cheek, the soft contact soothing him in the same way. “I always thought you were tougher than me. I mean, you never complained about the scars after days of practice. I think that’s why I always picked on you.”

“And why I always hit you with my grandma’s walking cane.”

“Yeah. That hurt a lot, by the way,” he teases.

Remembering the endless days of your first trials, you look back on them with fondness rather than pain. Most of you have training wounds from those times, too many scars on your arms and hands to count. However, you’re grateful every time you can feel the energy within you to create an immense blaze, the power a part of you in a way nothing else could ever be.

Well, your power and Seungcheol, no matter how much he teased you during those years.

“Besides, if I was tougher, then you were faster. You improved at your trials so quickly, it was hard to keep up.”

Seungcheol’s lips rest a breathe away from yours. “We were never in a competition, you know.”

“I know.” You smirk. “We’re better as a team, anyway.”

He nods, pressing a kiss to your lips that only strengthens the heat underneath your skin. For every ounce of fire inside of you, Seungcheol stokes it with both care and ease. In the past, you would have called Seungcheol a headache, but you know there is no way you could be without him now. He’s your comrade and partner, the kindling to your spark in every way possible. “Agreed.”


	6. in the patch (kwon soonyoung)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You pick pumpkins with two special someones, only to make a little mess.

**Prompt Eight: Pumpkin**

* * *

Patches of pumpkins line the field, many signs across the grass indicating their types. Plumper ones sit nestled in the outer regions of the area, while medium-sized to miniature versions are in plentiful abundance. You know most of the families and people that came before you took the largest pumpkins closer to the parking lot, but you don’t care. All that matters is the experience shared between you and your two favorite men.

“Mommy, there are so many!” Joonho says to you before he begins to squeal. Soonyoung lifts and bounces your son into the air before setting him back down on his shoulder. Their capacity for play bewildered you; it was a wonder your husband and four-year-old had the same energy.

“There are, Joon! C’mon, let’s go find a really big one!” You take your son from Soonyoung’s arms, but not without a swift but affectionate kiss. Joonho sticks out his tongue in mock disgust, and you two laugh. The boy’s smirk becomes an array of giggles as you whip him through the air while making airplane sounds with your lips.

By the time you reach the outskirts of the patch, many pumpkins of various sizes surround you, including the largest ones. You hold on to Joonho’s hand as he points. Then, you stop at a pumpkin the same size as him.

Joonho’s eyes widen at the sight. “I want it,” he whispers.

You and Soonyoung release joyous chuckles. “Well then, little man, it’s the one you’ll have!” Soonyoung yells, plucking the boy from the ground and into his arms. Immediately, Joonho’s tiny hands wrap around his father’s neck.

“But, daddy, how are we gonna carve it? It’s so big!”

“I guess we’ll just have to use our Kwon family super strength!” Soonyoung begins to stomp around the patch to Joonho’s delight. You look on at the two boys laughing with a private smile. It’s easy to take the small moments for granted most days, but with having Joonho and the holidays coming up, he helps you remember moments like these matter every second.

In the haze of your reflection, Soonyoung steps on a smaller pumpkin, squashing it to sizeable chunks under his hiking boot. His cheeks immediately turn pink, but Joonho just laughs at the mishap. “Mommy, look!”

You shake your head with a grin on your face, kissing one of Soonyoung’s reddened cheeks. “It’s okay, babe. We can pay for it.”

A nearby farmer feigns annoyance at the accident, but once he sees a smiling Joonho holding the squashed pumpkin bits in his hand, the older man grins. Of course, you and Soonyoung are grinning too.

“Is that your pumpkin, son?” the farmer asks.

“Nope! We stomped on this by accident.” Joonho plops the squishy contents into the farmer’s hands and points to the large pumpkin in Soonyoung’s arms. “That one’s mine!”

As you load the car with the large pumpkin, you remember the small events of the day happily. Joonho’s joy as he picked his favorite pumpkin lifts your heart, but the knowledge he’ll be elated carving it into a jack o’ lantern fills it with happiness. In spite of all mishaps, these moments are indeed worth it.

 


	7. barista beauty (jennie kim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She hates making pumpkin spice lattes, but she can get used to them if you like them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> barista!au

**Prompt Nine: Tea/Coffee**

* * *

 

Jennie Kim despises pumpkin spice lattes and detests making them even more.

Frappuccinos or lattes, the flavor never seemed to take with her, no matter how many years she spent in the fall making them for whining teenagers or out-of-touch PTA moms. By this October, she has it down to perfection, the routine embedded in her head with all the practice she’s had. Lisa and Rose call her mechanical, making the drinks practically on autopilot, and Jennie knows they’re right.

Chai tea lattes were delicious, too! Even hot chocolates would taste good in autumn, although most of the customers picked the drink for winter consumption. There is an array of hot cappuccinos, macchiatos, and lattes to choose from, Jennie thinks, and all the people see is the pumpkin-flavored coffee drink she frequently rolls her eyes at.

 _Shots, milk, whipped cream, topping_. She repeats this in her head, tuning out the music playing in the speakers, shaking off the morning chill and garnishing the venti-sized latte with pumpkin spice flakes. She tries not to hate them so much–they’re a seasonal specialty, for god’s sake–but they’re ridiculous.

Her stance on them changes the second she sees you standing at the register, ordering a grande pumpkin spice with two extra shots. As your smile beams, Jennie can’t help but thaw her grudge against the drink a smudge.

She hands it to you with a grin, putting as much affection into this pumpkin spice as she can in hopes you’ll have a better day with the hot coffee you selected. Only, you don’t leave after Jennie’s given you the drink. You thank her, the lilt of your voice practically turning Jennie into mush, and sit down towards the end of the bar.

Lisa calls Jennie to make a mobile order, an iced chai tea latte and a warmed pumpkin bread, but Jennie cannot help but watch you. Opening your laptop, stopping to take a sip of your coffee, writing down words in a notebook.

Feeling Jennie’s eyes on you, you turn to look at her and blush. The cute barista instantly turns away and slaps the order sticker on the large cold cup. The cafe in town is not your usual place for coffee, a simple roast made in your coffee pot at home enough for you to get through the day. Only you needed something stronger to manage writing your midterm paper. Little sleep made you grouchy, and typing a meaningless paper about Emily Dickinson doesn’t help your mood. But the pretty girl behind the counter making coffee is a welcome sight.

After an hour, wordlessly stealing looks and getting caught a handful of times, Jennie walks over to your spot during the slow period and leans over the counter. “How’s your latte,” she asks.

You grin. “Delicious, thank you. I needed something to write this essay, and what’s better for that than coffee?”

The two of you laugh, and the shine of her smile warms you up more than the coffee ever could. “I’m Jennie. If you need anything else, let me know.” Jennie winks and walks away, the tempo of her heartbeat too erratic to contain. Why the hell did she just wink at you?

Little did she know, your heart picked up in double time as well.

You stay until your paper’s done, putting the final touches to the conclusion. By the time you close your laptop, Jennie’s bounding to you with a new latte. “Pumpkin spice, right? I can ring it up at the counter!”

The smile on your face widens. “Actually, I’d love a chai tea latte if that’s okay! But I’ll pay for this one too since you went to the trouble.”

“No, it’s okay! I can make you the chai right now. I’ll just meet you at the counter,” Jennie responds, walking back to the espresso machines to start your drink.

You scribble your number on a ripped piece of paper from your notebook, hoping the five does not look like a misshapen two. Tapping on the counter nervously, you wait for Jennie to finish the latte. Would she even want your number? Would she throw it away and go back to work? You shake the thoughts from your head, remembering the glances she sent your way.

“Alright! Your total is $4.32,” Jennie says, handing you your coffee. Your hands brush, and both the warmth of the latte and her fingers on your skin makes your nerves jolt.

You slip the paper with your number underneath the cash. With a “thank you” and a smile, you run out of the cafe with your heart in your mouth, knowing a small part of you will hold out for an answer.

Jennie sits down at a table to take a lunch break before the late afternoon rush, Jisoo taking the role of bar barista for the thirty-minute interval. Her hand shakes as she types out your number on her phone, ready to send a message but unsure what to say. She could be witty or send you a coffee pun. Evidently, she goes with a simple message:

_[Sent at 3:50 P.M.] I don’t like pumpkin spices that much. Weird, right? :/_

Jennie scolds herself for such a random message to start out your conversation, certain you’ll discard it and continue with your day. The ping of a notification breaks her negative thoughts, your response making her giggle.

_[Received at 4:02 P.M.] I don’t like them that much either, but the barista who makes them is pretty cute :)_


	8. holiday hassle (park chaeyong)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A debate about which holiday is better sparks an idea.

**Prompt Ten: “Christmas.”**

* * *

“Christmas.”

It’s the same argument you’ve had with Rose for an hour since you confessed your favorite holiday was Halloween and not Christmas. Only it’s been more of her uttering one word in shock and you trying to stifle her unnecessary surprise.

You were placing a few jack o’ lanterns on the windowsill. Shifting them to face the living room and switching on the battery-operated candles, you couldn’t contain the smile on your face at seeing them glow bright orange. Your girlfriend made a joke about your joy for decorating the house at this time of year when you revealed the tiny detail. Of course, she was appalled.

Rose bled red and green when the holidays came around, excited to approach the end of the year to show her naughty and nice spirit. You knew this, and early into dating, you agreed that it was an interesting holiday. You never called it the best one, though.

Maybe a part of you understood the petty argument about the holidays would begin the second you unraveled your little white lie. Now, in the midst of such an argument at your dinner table, you regret outing yourself in the first place.

“Christmas,” she says for the fourth time.

You sigh. “Babe, you’re not gonna change my mind.”

“Okay, but it’s Christmas.” She forces a single finger down into the wood of the table, emphasizing her point, her other hand twirling her fork in the pasta you cooked.

“I mean, it’s very fun and you get a ton of gifts, but it’s a little overhyped sometimes.” You take another bite of your dinner as Rose stares at you, bewildered. Every word seems to scream blasphemy.

“Maybe that’s true, but the second October comes around, everyone wants to watch ‘The Night Before Christmas’ or cannot stop talking about candy or costumes.”

You scoff. “Oh, and that doesn’t happen every November? Practically every radio station plays ‘All I Want For Christmas’ before December even starts.”

“That’s not true!”

“It’s so true, and you have to know that, babe.”

“Don’t call me ‘babe’! You’re ridiculing Christmas!”

You roll your eyes at Rose’s claims, taking a sip of your wine to calm the frustration brewing in you. “I am not! I just meant maybe everyone gets a little too excited about the holidays, that’s all.”

“Including me. That’s what you meant.” Rose huffs, and you swear you see her eyes tear up a bit before she drops her fork against her plate and stalks out of the room. Its screech echoes in your ears until your bedroom door slams, the amalgamation of sounds creating a pit in your stomach.

The proud part of you wants to say Rose is being over dramatic; she gets over things after enough alone time and won’t be so mad after an hour or two. Except, you know her as deeply as she knows you. She doesn’t like judgment; she gets enough of that from people she does and doesn’t know. Were you to blame her for being hurt at the person she loved doing that to her too, no matter if it was intentional or not?

In an effort to fix your mistake, you grab the bucket of decorations from a side closet near the washer and dryer. Popping the top, you sift through the materials before you see the array of Christmas decorations. You take out the smaller ones as well as a couple of fuzzy streamers, leaving some more in the box. You set a few smaller plastic gingerbread houses on the coffee table, and then place some miniature porcelain Christmas trees beside your jack o’ lanterns. Sitting down beside the windowsill, you examine the stark differences between the trinkets. Although it’s apparent to anyone that they might not fit aesthetically, you find they work together well in their own way.

The creak of the bedroom door pulls you from your thoughts, and you stand up to Rose softly padding into the living room, her cheeks red and both hands wiping underneath her eyes.

“What are you doing,” Rose mumbles, her voice hoarse. At that moment, you can tell she’s been crying, and you want to chastise yourself for being the cause of her tears.

“I thought…maybe it’s possible to have a holiday neutral house this year.” You fidget, looking around at both the Christmas and Halloween decorations around the house, especially the jack o’ lanterns and miniature Christmas trees on the windowsill. “I was wrong. You have every right to be excited about the holidays, cause I get that way too. Just because we like different things doesn’t mean I have to criticize you for it, even if I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

Rose smiles so bright, your guilt ebbs away at the sight of her corners of her lips turning. She runs and wraps her arms around you, peppering your face with kisses. “I’m sorry, too. You can like Halloween all you want. I love how excited you get.” She plants a kiss on your mouth, hers soft and teasing against you. “It’s one of the many things I do love about you.”

“Likewise.” You snake your hands around her waist and squeeze her closer to you. “Now do you wanna help me finish or not?”

She nods with a grin, wider than the last, and all is forgiven. Taking out the red and green streamers from the decoration box, Rose smiling the whole time she jingles the ornaments in her hand, you think maybe your new tradition is to bring both of your favorite holidays together.


	9. sunday laundry (wong yukhei)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your boyfriend can’t stop getting blood on his clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vampire!au

**Prompt Eleven: “Is that blood on your shirt?”**

* * *

 

Yukhei forgets how difficult it is to do his laundry, especially after he goes on a hunt. Every time he went away for one weekend out of the month, you prepared for the bloody mess that would be on his clothes once he came home. Sometimes, he wasn’t entirely dirty. He’d have a few spots here or there that could easily be scrubbed away with a little soap and water. However, you made sure to stock a couple of bottles of detergent in the pantry in case he arrived with stains all over his shirt and pants.

To Yukhei’s dismay, you would have to throw the articles of clothing away entirely if there was no way to clean them. “I liked that shirt,” he complained once after you had tossed his gray plaid over-shirt into the trash. If it wasn’t for the large mark on the sleeve you couldn’t scrub away, you would’ve let him keep it. But nobody in the city needs to know a vampire is out on the town, and they definitely don’t need hints that it’s your boyfriend.

You know Yukhei has to search for animals to drink from so he can maintain his thirst, but you would like your part in it to be a bit easier on you and your washer and dryer.

You’re folding a pile of your laundry alongside Yukhei’s when you hear the jingle of a key turning the lock and the opening of your front door. “Honey, I’m home,” Yukhei yells. He always calls for you the second he gets back.

When he makes it to your bedroom as you’re separating the whites from the colors, he stops to give you a smile once you turn to look at him. Even with the state of his attire and the cut on his forehead, you can’t help but love how youthful he looks after he feeds. More importantly, you remember how much you missed his presence in the house after being alone for two days.

“Is that blood on your shirt,” you ask, already seeing the red marks and knowing the answer.

“No,” Yukhei laughed before shrugging, “Okay…maybe?” He wipes the scrape on his head with his sleeve, and another spot of blood drenches his sweater.

“Xuxi,” you groan, folding his gym shirts and putting them onto your bed.

“I know, I’m sorry. In my defense, Chenle couldn’t stop that deer on his own, and then it just got everywhere.”

“Next time, you’re buying more detergent.”

You walk into your adjoined bathroom to wash your hands, preparing for the mess that is cleaning your boyfriend’s clothes. Immediately, he comes into the bathroom pouting, wearing a new, clean shirt. Speedy as he was, Yukhei still surprised you.

“I don’t mean to be inconvenient. If it helps, I’ll do my own laundry from now on.”

You sigh, wrapping your arms around Yukhei and breathing in his scent. Despite the sweat, you smell the notes of his aftershave and cologne. This is what you miss when he’s away: him.

“I’m not mad, and you’re not and have never been inconvenient,” you say with a small apologetic smile, “I guess seeing all of that just reminds me that this is the messy part of your life. Being a vampire and all. But if I have to clean some bloody jogging pants for the guy I love, then I guess I’ll do it.”

You two share a laugh, the sound rumbling in your tiny bathroom, and Yukhei kisses your forehead. “I love you, too.” Strangely, his cold lips bring back the warmth you lost when he left yesterday morning, and all is forgiven. 


	10. candy corn sunsets (mark lee)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porch swings and candy corn have been a tradition between you and Mark Lee for almost a decade, but it was only one of the many reasons to stick by him, and love him, so easily.

**Prompt Thirteen: Traditions**

* * *

 

_The night before Halloween, both participants are to present their own bag of candy corn and sit on Mark Lee’s backyard porch swing until midnight._

It’s the one agreement you’ve shared with Mark Lee since you were both eleven, etched into an old canvas notebook covered in star stickers and poorly drawn doodles with both of your signatures on the last line of the page. To cement it even further, you both pink promised and spit into your hands to clasp together in a wet handshake. You would never ruin traditions or break your promises, especially not ones you made with Mark. That night nine years ago taught you nothing good came out of either.

That night, twenty-four hours before Halloween, you ran to Mark’s house next door with your notebook in hand, tears streaming down your face. An hour before, your parents had told you your family trick or treating spree would be different that year. Your dad wouldn’t be coming, and he’d be leaving soon. You had told Mark you blamed them for not trying harder with each other and splitting up the family, but what the hurt the most was the knowledge one event you loved forever would be ruined. Then, Mark pulled a bag of candy corn from his side of the porch swing with the arm that wasn’t draped over your shoulder, a small smile spreading on his face. “We’ll always have this.”

You laughed, tucking yourself into him deeper. “We will.”

Now, you’re snuggled into his side the same way you were when you were a kid. The porch swing squeaks more than it should, and Mark’s parents always complain it takes up unnecessary space in their backyard, but they know it’s a piece of Mark’s history with you. And because they’ve loved you forever, they look on at the both of you rocking back and forth as the colors of sunset turn black.

While you wait for the clock to hit midnight, you argue about vampires and werewolves, a long-standing debate in your relationship.

“Okay, but hear me out. Imagine being able to live for a thousand years! So what if you have to drink blood or glitter in the sun,” Mark says as he pushes his legs forward, controlling the swing’s momentum.

“Did you seriously just reference  _Twilight_  to support your argument  _for_ vampires?” You pop a piece of candy corn into your mouth, watching the stars twinkle in the night sky.

“Now you’re twisting my words around!”

“No I’m not! We all know there’s only one group of vampires that glitter.”

Mark scoffs. “Fine, you got me. But werewolves are no better!”

“Tell me how transforming into a wolf is not the coolest thing ever,” you retort, placing a piece of the candy between his lips to quiet him. “And their senses are heightened in every way.  _And_  they’re actually alive.”

“I don’t know how I married you when you would choose hair on every part of your body and becoming an animal every full moon over super speed and immortality.”

You kiss his cheek tenderly. “Because you love me, werewolf or human.”

Mark grins despite himself and nods, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I do. My little candy corn.”

“Mark! I swear, if you keep saying that—”

“It’s cute and you love it!”

You know he’s right, your heart never failing to swell at the ridiculous pet name he’s been using since you started dating in high school. Mark’s affection is effortless, and your reactions are just as straightforward when he’s never failed to make you feel safe in his arms or secure in knowing he holds your heart with no intentions of hurting it. From childhood to now, it’s instinctual to love him when he makes it so easy to.

By the time midnight rolls around, and you’re both driving home, you smile and remember for all the times things have gone wrong or changed in ways you didn’t expect, Mark has been there and kept his promises to you. His love for you and your love for him is its own tradition, a habit you could never break.


	11. down the trail (lisa manoban)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don’t care for the town’s haunted road leading into the woods, but she tries to reassure you there’s nothing to be afraid of.

**Prompt Fourteen: Roads**

* * *

“The say this road is haunted, and anyone that walks through it on the night of the full moon will never make it to the other side alive,” Lisa whispers, the proximity of her lips to your neck making you giggle.

“So tell me how people can drive on this road and be completely fine?”

“Because they’re not vulnerable to the environment, goof. And a car is faster than two legs. You’re easier prey for the werewolves and vampires when you’re on foot!”

You roll your eyes, wrapping your hand in hers and walking farther down the trail until you turn into the woods, the asphalt becoming dirt. Lisa decided to leave the car a ways away, and you know she did that to exaggerate the town’s urban legend. Most of the story was a myth, one local boy running away crafted into a tale about teens never coming home if they took that road out of the area. You never believed in it, but the darkness of the night does not comfort you much.

The woods thicken the deeper you walk into them, blocking out the light of the moon. Goosebumps form on your skin, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up from the wind and the subtle dread forming in your stomach.

If Lisa can’t tell already, you hope she never does, or else she would use the information to egg on your fear. You love your girlfriend, but she jokes too much for her own good or yours.

“Are you sure they’re here, Lisa? We should’ve seen Rose and Jennie by now,” you mumble, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Babe, it’s fine. I’m sure we’ll find the bonfire soon.”

The darkness tempo of your heartbeat increases, calm breaths becoming short bursts of air going in and out of your lungs. You let go of Lisa’s hand, turning your head in various directions but finding only blackness and the muted but tense noises of the thickets of trees. A few branches sway in the wind and some crows squawk in the distance, but the motions and sounds scare you all the same.

“Hey,” Lisa whispers, taking your head between her hands, “Just breathe, okay? Nothing’s gonna hurt you out here. I promise.”

You nod softly, breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth to calm yourself down. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Lisa laughs, although her eyes flare with concern.

“I don’t want you to think I’m…a chicken.”

Lisa chuckles louder, the loudest sound in the forest soothing your anxiety. “You’re not a chicken at all. I was just teasing before, but I didn’t mean to scare you.” She kisses you deeply, the soft and gentle touch of her lips to yours providing another comfort that strips away your fears.” And I might be a 5’5, but I’ll kick the ass of every human or supernatural beast in these woods to keep you safe.”

You laugh, kissing her on the nose. “Who knew you could be so romantic.”

Lisa winks. “I’m full of surprises.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulder when you begin walking through the forest again, and thankfully, you hear the sounds of both your names being called a few steps away. Then, the flickers of a bonfire come into vision.

“Thank God! We almost ran out of this place and called the cops,” Jennie yells at Lisa, admonishment written all over her face. From a log near the bonfire, Rose nods and pouts.

“Excuse me! You think we could see anything in these woods? Besides, we’re here now.” Lisa pokes her tongue out at your mutual friends, and the two of you sit down together on a different log.

As the night goes on, and you stay wrapped in Lisa’s arms, you forget about urban legends and haunted roads. Only the crackles of the bonfire, your friends’ laughter, and the feel of Lisa’s shoulder against your cheek matters.


	12. fangs and dinner dates (chwe hansol)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting his friends sounds good on paper, until you have the intense suspicion they’re supernatural creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sort of a vampire!au

**Prompt Eighteen/Nineteen: Neighbors & Family**

* * *

 

“I want you to meet my family. Well, okay, it’s just my friends but they’re basically family, and they’ve been asking about you. What do you say?”

Those words cross your mind countless times before you knock on your neighbor Hansol’s door. Neighbor turned boyfriend, as Eunwoo calls him just to tease you. In the days before your Saturday dinner with Hansol and his friends, you prepared yourself for the questions they would ask and their eventual interrogation regarding what you and Hansol were to each other. You would’ve said he was just the guy across the hall, but a couple shared kisses here and there would have said otherwise.

The second a tall, blonde man answers the door, you can’t take your eyes off of his teeth. Or his fangs.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Seungcheol. Hansol’s told me a lot about you,” Seungcheol greets you with a smile, taking your hand in his to shake. Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you, but the touch of Seungcheol’s skin to yours sends a shiver to your spine. It almost makes your teeth chatter.

Then, more than a dozen pairs of eyes turn your way with grins to match Seungcheol’s, and their fangs strike a sense of dread through you that is unavoidable. The cold within your skin chills you to the bone. “Hi, everyone. It’s nice to meet you.”

You hear your name in the kitchen, and Hansol runs out with a large smile, the welcome sight of no fangs calming you. He pulls you in for a tight hug, and you take his warmth with glee. “You’re shaking! Do you need me to get you a jacket, or I can turn down the AC?”

Hansol’s concerned pout tugs at your heart, and you shake your head. “It’s okay! I’m probably just nervous.”

“You better be. Han’s making dinner tonight, and he’s like the worst cook. Next to Jeonghan, of course,” a black-haired boy says before his eyes divert back to the book he was reading.

“Wonwoo, what the fuck!” The one you assume is Jeonghan nudges Wonwoo in the side, and the two share a laugh. They all give you their names in greeting, and you smile and nod at each of them in earnest.

When Hansol calls you all to sit at the dinner table, some extra seats lining the walls for the boys who can’t sit in the circle, they all begin to ask various questions.

“Where are you from?”

“Are you studying anything?”

“How long have you and Hansol been neighbors?”

“Did Hansol use some lame joke when you first met?”

The rapid pace of them makes your head spin despite enjoying their plentiful conversation, but Hansol stops them with a hand. “Guys, can we just eat our chicken in peace and let my date relax?”

You turn to Hansol with a grin, grabbing the hand that’s in the air and placing it on your thigh. “Date, huh?”

Hansol shrugs, a dusty shade of pink coloring his cheeks. “Oh! I forgot drinks!”

“It’s okay, bud,” Seungcheol pipes up, “we brought our own.”

Jihoon brings out a hefty-sized nondescript bottle while Hansol grabs you a glass of wine and a drink for himself. When a thick, red liquid comes out of the bottle, you feel the hairs on your neck stand up.

“What is that exactly,” you whisper to Seungcheol.

“Nothing really. Soda, I think? We just can’t help drinking it.”

The group downs their shares without a second thought. When Hansol comes back, he refuses the drink and sticks to his water. You take a sip of the wine Hansol poured for you, already lightheaded from the thoughts swirling around in your head. Fangs, cold skin, and a large tub of blood? Your theory sounds so ridiculous, you don’t even say it out loud.

By the time you’re saying goodbye to the thirteen-man troupe, you smile and give Seungcheol a sideways hug.

“We’d love to see you again sometime,” Seungcheol whispers, and you swear the points of his fangs scrape your neck.

In response, you shrink back in fear and edge closer to the door. “See you guys later!”

Closing the door and running into the hall, you jiggle your apartment key in your hand when Hansol comes out of the house in worry. “Is everything okay?”

“Not really, no? Like, I don’t know how close you are with all of them, but I swear, Han…they’re vampires!” You take a deep breath. “I mean, they were drinking what looked like blood when we were eating, Seungcheol skin is practically the temperature of an icicle, and they all have fangs? I must sound crazy, but—”

Hansol inadvertently interrupts your rant with a loud chuckle, the boy holding onto his knees for support when he topples over. “You should’ve seen your face just now.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Hansol says your name amidst his laughter. “Seungcheol’s just naturally a chilly dude, I promise. But the fangs and blood? Well, they must have really made those plastic points and all that pancake syrup look convincing.”

Your eyes and mouth widen before you smack Hansol on the arm and chest. You hear the laughter on the other side of the door, and you hit Hansol a tad bit harder. “Are you kidding?! You guys were messing with me!?”

He nods as he takes your hits, blocking a few with his hands. “Okay, it was awful, I know! I’m sorry. At least we know you actually think vampires are real, huh?”

You take a second to calm down before you inch closer to him, a pout on your lips. “I thought I was going crazy! You’re lucky I like you, Chwe Hansol.” You huff, crossing your arms.

“I like you too.” Hansol brushes a hand through your hair and twirls on curl around his finger, a lighthearted smile on his face. “To be fair, they roped me into it!”

You roll your eyes and wrap your arms around Hansol. “I’ll just have to get you guys back sometime.”

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted to my writing blog on tumblr (@chwepen if you'd like to find me there too ♡)!


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